BronxPearl v2.0

Confessions, ramblings, musings, and opinions from a BBW as she embraces 30 31 Years and Life
(or at least tries to).

Saturday, April 22, 2006

New Attitude

This past Tuesday, I attended an open house at the office of Dr. Capella, one of the best weight loss surgeons on the east coast and indeed throughout the country. I found out several things that I did not know, which was obviously the whole point in attending the Open House. For starters, the death rate is not as high as some would have you think it is. Also, the gastric bypass is NOT a malabsorption procedure. While there ARE weight loss surguries that do affect the absorption of vital nutrients, gastric bypass is not one of them. People who have gastric bypass surgery only have to take a multivitamin the rest of their lives, which is something that most people who would never even consider WLS do on a daily basis anyway. No vitamin cocktails.

I also found out what information I would have to produce for my insurance company to be eligible for the surgery. Compared to some other health insurance companies, mine is not demanding a lot. If I started right now, I probably could have everything I needed in the way of paperwork done by the end of the summer, and have the surgery before Thanksgiving.

The keyword to all of that is, of course, IF.

I have supporters on both sides of the coin. My "aunt" said that she thinks it would be good for me and that she will stand beside me no matter what. My mom, on the other hand, doesn't want me to have the surgery. My grandparents, however, think that if it will make me healthy, then it might be "worth the risks". One of my guy friends said that he thinks that I can lose the weight I want to lose without having the surgery, and said that he would be there every step of the way helping me in any way he could. One of my close girlfriends has said for a long time that she would never have WLS because she said the possibility of dying was not worth it, but that she would support me in any decision I made.

I am going to start getting all of my medical ducks in a row. My general practitioner will have to start keeping track of my weight loss attempts for a few months before providing a letter recommending for the surgery. I will also have to get a psychological evaluation (yanno--make sure that I am not thinking that having this surgery will resolve all of my various issues). Who knows what will come of any of this process. I might actually lose more weight than I think over the next few months. The psych eval might open up something within me that might help as well.I have not made a 100% decision as to what I am going to do. But I do have a new outlook on where the next few months will lead me, and a new found attitude about making the decisions that will make me the best me I can be.

Saturday, April 15, 2006

@ Random 4::15::06

The Amazin' Streak EndsOkay...so my Mets finally lost a game. We are still 8-2 on this young baseball season. That is the best start my squad has had in about 20 years. And that other team in NY? I don't think that are even at .500 yet. Perhaps the winds of change are finally blowing through Flushing, NY. Our pitching (save for today) is looking amazing (no pun intended). And we finally have an offensive line-up that is doing some real damage at the plate. Granted, it is early in the season, but I am looking forward to a minimum of a division title this season for my squad. That's right. I said it. A MINIMUM of a NL East title for My Mets (sorry Braves fans, but your reign at the top is over).In JusticeIn Harlem, a few weeks ago, four Black young men chased a white NYU student down a busy street as they tried to rob him. The NYU student ended up running into traffic, and getting struck and killed by a car. The four black youths were arraigned as adults, and were going to be charged with 2nd degree murder as adults. Today, the court ordered that they be charged as youths, which means that they face a five year maximum sentence if convicted as opposed to a nine to fiftenn year sentence. While I know that I cannot possibly understand what the parents of both the NYU student and the black youths are going through in all of this mix, I must say that I am glad that they are not being charged as adults. It seems to me that we need to be focusing on why these young boys thought it would be fun on a weekend afternoon to chase the young man and try to rob him as opposed to doing something more constructive with their time. Reportedly, the young boys, ages 13 and 15 respectively, are all A students in their schools. So why would these A students be out trying to steal someone's cell phone? I'm not saying they should get away scott free, I just think more examination of this situation is needed.Grown and Sexy, RevisitedFinally got my hair done. It is in two strand twists that are a lighter brown than my normal hair color. I will post pics of me and the new 'Do in all of my Easter finery. Won't promise it will be tomorrow night. But I will post a pic or two for those that care (like there are dozens of you reading this blog LOL!)I'm off to iron my Easter dress and get my bag and shoes laid out for tomorrow! Chat with y'all again soon!

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Jagged Little Pill

"I recommend getting your heart trampled on to anyoneI recommend walking around naked in your living roomSwallow it down (what a jagged little pill)It feels so good (swimming in your stomach)Wait until the dust settles"--Alanis Morrissette "You Learn"Jagged Little Pill

"I miss her," he says as the two of you are talking on the phone at 1:00am. It is the usual hour that you are on the phone. He called you at the usual time of between 11:30pm and midnight. Always before Midnight though. Even if it is three minutes before, it is always before midnight. You often wondered if this was just a coincidence.

"Miss who?" you ask. Of course you ask. He has been saying he misses you for the past two days, but being tired from work, and just not in the mood to hear the chorus of objections that come when you are going to hang out with him, you have declined.

"Sammy" he says. You hear the longing in his voice. From what you remember, he hasn't spoken to her for awhile. They had a falling out over the summer during a trip gone awry to Disneyland in California. He repeats the words again, "I miss her."

"Okay," you say hesitantly,"So why don't you give her a call?"

"Well, the last time I tried was Christmas Day," he says,"I was trying to see if we could maybe work things out.""You mean like be friends again?" you ask, walking blindly into the conversation that you knew was eventually coming, just didn't know about who, or when.

"Friends, a relationship, everything," he says.

He then procedes to tell you the story about how he--this man who always says that he isn't ready for a relationship, the man who told you before that he hasn't met anyone who he wants to be in a relationship with--wanted to be in a relationship with her. How he told her that he would give up all of his other women for her. How his home was open to her 24/7. How he wanted to be in a serious, committed relationship with her. No more Babs events. No more swing parties. Committed. WHen he speaks the word committment, your stomach does this weird flip flop because you have never heard him talk about how he wanted to be committed to ANYONE. Ever. You swallow hard, trying to make the ball of nerves that is in your stomach quiet down. You know there is more.

"Wow," is all you can muster at first. Part of you--the part that is platonic friend--is proud of him for even thinking that he would want to be committed."So what happened?"

He then tells you about the arguments. How there was a problem with everything. She complained about not seeing him enough, when she was putting in 14-16 hour days and he was working and going to school fulltime. She complained about them not fucking enough, but when they went on vacation together and he wanted to, she didn't. She complained about him not complimenting her enough, but when he did, she didn't believe his sincereity. That platonic part of you realizes that this is all his side of the story. It is the side that loves him for all of his flaws that knows that when he says something flattering that it is true because he doesn't cut corners. He tells the truth to a fault.

He tells you about the fact that he met her in what you call the Babs swing circuit. That group of BBWs and Admirers that gets down like that after Babs parties in hotels. He actually met her while he was hanging out with you in Philly at a BBW getaway weekend, and had wanted to kick it to her then. But she had a man. It is at that point, the side that loves him whispers in your mind "Damn...for as long as he wanted her, you have wanted him."And as he talks about how it hurt him that she wouldn't give up swinging to be with him, the side of you that loves him and the platonic side begin to fight a fierce battle. Because as your platonic side offers him the comfort that a friend would, the side that loves him wants to scream. You know that he probably sees it as karma.The dirt he has put out into the world, he probably feels has come back to him in the form of this unrequited deep like.The side that loves him cries because you finally get it. You realize that it doesn't matter to him that you are not a ho. It does not matter that you don't go to swing parties and never would. It does not matter that you are actually making progress in your life, while others are stuck. Even at your most indecisive, you are still TRYING to make something of yourself.You are a good woman. He knows that. His friends know that. it wouldn't matter if you had the world on a damn string. Because you just are NOT that woman for him. You could do everything "right" in his eyes until the cows come home,pigs fly, and every other cliched phrase that represents the "never" that is the state of the relationship that is you and him.

You hold most of your tears for when you are in the comfort of one of your female friends the next morning. And the beauty of a good friend is that they will never say "I told you so" even though you know that they have been saying that for a long time now. It hurts like hell that with all that you have tried to be, it is with someone else that he wanted to be with. Show the real man side of himself to. But you brush your tears away, wash your face, and move on with your day. Sometimes God whispers the truth to you. Sometimes He has to hit you in the head with a brick for you to get it.

You get it now. Now, the healing must begin. You aren't sure how that is going to happen. You aren't sure whether you should just steer clear of him or act like this news hasn't had the effect on you that it did. You don't know anything except that what you want, you won't have. And that you must learn from this. And move on. And heal yourself. Once you figure out how to get there.

"You live you learnYou love you learnYou cry you learnYou loseyou learnYou bleed you learnYou scream you learn"

Sunday, April 09, 2006

A Weighty Issue

Lately I have been running across a lot of BBWs who aren't happy being BBWs. One of my closet friends is a BBW, but she is eagerly trying to lose weight--much to the discontent of her boyfriend, an avid BBW Admirer. Another friend of mine, a model, is trying to lose weight as well in hopes of getting more castings for "fit plus models" i.e. a size 16, but just thick and not flabby. Another friend of mine was so happy when e-diets.com wanted to place ads on his pro-BBW site. When I questioned his maybe sending a mixed message and maybe turning some folks off by having diet information on a BBW site, he assured me that for those few who were turned off, there would be many more that either wouldn't care , or would be interested in finding out more about e-diets (which is what he is hoping for financially speaking).

I myself am going through my own personal battles with my weight in terms of what steps I should take from this point out. The business woman in me says that it might be best to just continue on as I have trying to eat less and move more all the while keeping myself--well--fat. After all, what would it look like for a founder of a website and other enterprises catered towards big beautiful women to lose weight and NOT be a BBW herself? My heart, however, is singing a different song. It is telling me that she is tired of lugging around all of this extra weight, tired of not being comfortable in all situations and settings. Tired of worrying about whether I will fit in a seat. Tired of getting tired going up three flights of stairs. Tired of not being able to wear the cute designer clothing that other women wear. Tired of not feeling like I am being completely ME.

I've made some decisions about where I want to go as far as my weight. I am willing to do what I need to do in order to be healthy and happy. It is something that I will discuss with a few people who are near and dear to me. I worry about losing some, but I know that the people who truly care about me will support me in any decisions I make.

I just wonder this: if we call ourselves Big Beautiful Women, but are constantly trying to lose weight and get smaller, then do we really consider ourselves beautiful? Or are there more BBWs out her faking the funk than we think?

Driven

[Note: Okay..so I have been trying to write a whole new introduction to this new chapter of my blog life, right? But sometimes, if it ain't broke, why fix it? This is one of the few posts from the old blog that still stands true in my life. I promise, new stuff is coming. Until then...reminisce....]

Today's Michael Baisden Show is all about people who are following their passions at the expense of personal and intimate relationships in their lives. He is speaking so loudly to me right now, I might need some ear plugs!

My first experience with the choice of goals vs. "relationship" was the summer before my senior year of high school. I had applied to be a summer camp counselor for what was the second or third year in a row. Being a summer counselor had its rewards: plenty of time in the sunshine, 8 weeks of being with my fellow counselors who were all formerly part of my camp crew, an excuse to actually get some exercise (running around after 5 and 6 year olds is exhausting and was my precursor to my decision to put children on hold), and, mostly importantly to me:Steven*. For two summer straight, Steven and I had involved our selves in a summer romance. We never really spoke during the school year, but it was always love at that first counselor orientation pre-summer.

When I first sent in the application for the Summer Journalism internship, I honestly didn't think I would get it. There are hundreds of high schools-both public and private--in NYC. That I would be one of ten students chosen to take part in the month long workshop was something I just didn't think would happen. But it did. And the first person (after family and my best friend at the time) I ran to tell was Steven. He knew I wanted to be a writer. He had read my poems and had proven that he saved every article I wrote and had mailed him throughout the school year. I knew he would be happy for this opportunity that had come my way.

"You're not gonna do it, are you?" was his response. Huh? I had though to myself.

"What do you mean I'm not gonna do it?" I asked stunned,"Of course I'm gonna do it."

"What about us this summer?"he has asked me."You're supposed to be here at the camp with me. This is our time, boo."

After an hour of arguing the way teenagers do, he said to me simply,"If you are gonna put that in front of you and me, fine. Don't call me no more." And he hung up.

Of course, being a teenager I was hurt. I was even more hurt when I found out that he was going out with another big girl by the end of that week. Since then, I've always had guys that will try to talk to me, bigging me up for my ambition and drive until they realize that my ambition and drive cuts into the time when I am supposed to be chasing after them, leaving cell phone messages and numerous pages on beepers like women with nothing better to do than to chase after some man. One of my deepest loves used to use my going to college and trying to start my own company as a tool to get booty and a guilt trip--sometimes within the course of the same phone conversation:

Chops:"So can I see you? You know I love to sit and watch you work. You are so much like a mentor, with yo' sexy ass. youknowwhatImsaying?"

Pearlie:"I can't today sweetie. I have a term paper I need to finish a rough draft on plus two articles for the school paper to finish up and I'm working on a website for my graphics design class."

Chops:*sucking teeth*"I swear yo--you never have time for me. You can run around and do a million things for everyone else or for what is important to you, but can't spend one hour with me. I guess I'm not important to you."

Pearlie:"Of course you are important to me. But I have to get this done. You do what you want to do when you want to, why can't I do my SCHOOL work?"

Chops:"I'msayingtho'--every time I get to see you, it's on YOUR schedule. What about when *I* want to see you, Pearlie? When am I gonna come first?"

The answer to that was never, and will continue to be so until I get this career of mine where I need it to be. At least until that Mr. Right comes along, but I think that is another blog all it's own. LOL!

Those experiences, as well as others, did teach me somthing important: there will always be those who think that they should come before any dream, goal or aspiration you have. As I have grown, and have travelled through college and now this weird mid/late twenty world that I am in, I realize that there are times when I do have to take that T.O. and give that quality time to those in my life who are important. But those people who get the special time are those that understand my drive and passion. And be it an hour phone call or an afternoon out, they are happy with that time.

Mike, I don't know if you will ever have reason to happen across my blog, but thank you for today's Love Lust & Lies show. Although you were preaching to the choir with this listener, you did exactly what a good pastor does with his congregation: invoked inspiration to find a new way to achieve that ultimate goal.